Tag Archives: sex

Why I can’t quit: a realization

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I’m lying here in bed in a post-purge high and I realized that, for me, purging is better than sex.

Where is the line?

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He buys me stuff all the time.

Groceries. Gifts. Toiletries. 

Today he got me some gifts. Just now, I stumbled across the receipt. It was a lot of money. 

I feel guilty.  I feel like I’m using him to get things. I feel manipulative. I feel like I’m stealing. I feel like I don’t deserve these things.

I feel cheap. It makes be wonder at which point do I cross the line into prostitution?

It doesn’t help that I hate it. It doesn’t help that I disassociate when he touches me. It doesn’t help that I feel like a doll in his hands, there only to receive him and help him achieve pleasure. It doesn’t help that the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.

My anxiety has gotten really bad lately. I don’t go anywhere. I make plans to do things with people, and then cancel.

I feel like I can’t call it off. I feel like I owe him too much, financially. I feel like I owe him my body because of how much he’s paid for and bought me. I don’t think I can ever make up that deficit, so I don’t think I can ever leave.

Last Night

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Last night, I was hanging out with my ex. We’ve maintained our friendship for the last year.

I don’t know what was different about last night, but he called me sweetie and we kissed.

And we kissed.

And we more than kissed.

I was enjoying it. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him, how much I missed being close to him. It felt good to be close to him again.

Then it happened. Before I realized it had happened, we went further than I was comfortable with. I suddenly found myself overwhelmed and scared. I didn’t know how to respond.

As I type this, I can see and hear all the people who tell you to “just say no” but it’s so much harder to do when you’re in the situation and you’re panicked and confused. I didn’t feel capable of stopping it. I felt trapped.

He didn’t know. He thought everything was fine. I disassociated and played the part. Why? I don’t know… I guess because that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I was trained to do.

I hated myself for it. I still hate myself for it. I wish I would have told him. I wish I would have stopped it. I feel dirty. I feel cheap. I feel like a liar. I feel sick.

Afterward, I wanted to die. I wanted to take out blade and cut into the vein on my wrist. Instead I lay there and cried silently into the pillow.

This morning, he was all smiles. He greeted me cheerily and kissed me. I was revolted. I think then he could tell something was wrong. He invited me to come shower with him. I declined. He left shortly after, and I haven’t heard from him since.

I woke up repeating to myself, “I hate you, I hate you.” I keep finding it playing on repeat in the back of my mind. I’ve been near tears all day.

I feel like I have no right to be upset. I am not justified in my despair. I feel guilty for last night, and I feel guilty for feeling guilt.

I don’t know where to go from here.